


Maybe he's born with it

by bernieloverstuff



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batjokes, Humor, M/M, One Shot, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 08:45:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9811820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bernieloverstuff/pseuds/bernieloverstuff
Summary: Joker insists on breaking into Wayne's master bathroom to primp and preen himself. Bruce is keeping an eye on him through security cameras, for completely wholesome reasons, of course. A batjokes one-shot fic. Voyeurism.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My first batjokes fic, written out of sheer frustration that my plans to see Lego Batman again tonight were foiled. Bah humbug. 
> 
> Rating is for mature general themes and some peeping tom action.
> 
> Lenght is one chapter.
> 
> Batman and Joker are not yet in a relationship in this fic.

The soft alarm went off and Bruce leapt on his feet, heading towards the door. Inside the control room, Bruce halted in front of the panel and his fingers started tapping, his eyes searching for the intruder on the many screens. He located the flash of green color just as he heard Alfred's steps behind him. 

"We've got company again, Master Wayne?" the old man asked lightly. Bruce grumbled, trying to act jaded despite the light rush of adrenaline he was feeling. Alfred stood besides Bruce and studied the screen.

"He's back."

"Yeah..."

"Once again, with the bag," the butler muttered. Joker had dropped his Sephora bag and coat on the tiles of the master bathroom floor, standing around in leather pants, kicking his shoes off. He slapped the bag on the counter and started pulling supplies out, humming to himself. 

"Why does he insist on doing this here?" Alfred wondered. Bruce shook his head, shrugging. 

"Must be some kind of attempt at playing mind games." 

Looking at his reflection with a coy smile, Joker deliberately pulled the latex gloves on very slowly, almost seductively. The glove snapped loudly as he let go of it, licking his lips and hissing "Alright, let's get to work!"

Bruce felt a humiliating twitch below, and stepped back from the desk, clearing his throat. He tried to steady his voice.

"Get the suit ready," he ordered. Alfred laid his hand on Bruce's arm as he was turning away.

"Master Wayne, if I may," he started hesitantly. 

"What?" Bruce asked. Alfred had a slightly pained expression.

"Would you mind... letting him leave on his own?" At Bruce's raised brows, the older man gestured impatiently. 

"The last time he was here, it took ages to clean up the mess. And I had JUST finished putting down the new tiles!" Bruce thought back at the fight he and Joker had 4 weeks ago when the clown first showed up in his master bathroom with his little bag. He had suited up, gone up there and tried to kick him out. The mess that ensued was something else. The mirrors, tiles and sinks crushed to pieces; water, chemicals, hair color and makeup everywhere, bright red nose blood running down the twisted, bruised smile of that little fucker... what a sight.

Bruce smiled at the memory. They could've gone on longer... 

"Ahem."

The millionaire snapped out of it and frowned at Alfred. 

"He's not doing anything illegal at the moment," the butler reasoned, "Apart from the whole breaking and entering thing."

"Yeah, apart from that little thing," Bruce muttered dryly. He let out a deep sigh, part frustration for not getting his hands on his favorite punching bag, part unease about having Joker in one of his more private rooms. 

"I'll give him an hour. He better be gone by then," he said. Alfred smiled and nodded, turning towards the door.

"Thank you, Master Wayne!" Bruce turned to the security screen, leaning against the desk heavily. Joker was already well at work, green sludge covering his hair like frosting, some splattered on the sink and floor tiles. He was humming and singing bits of random 80s pop songs to himself, watching his reflection like a snake, swaying his pale, narrow hips slowly. He was clearly feeling himself. Bruce chewed on his lower lip, leaning closer to the screen. The waist hung low on the V of Joker's stomach, seeming like it might slip...

"Master Wayne?"

Bruce nearly jumped; he had thought Alfred had left already. 

"What?" he snapped, his voice uneven. Alfred raised a brow ever so slightly, but kept his face neutral. 

"All the cameras are rolling and recording, surely there is no need for you to stay here," the butler said. Blinking, Bruce straightened up, clearing his throat. Gesturing vaguely towards the screens, he tried to come up with something. 

"I'm just making sure, you know... that he doesn't touch my stuff. That he doesn't steal anything," he said. Alfred gave him a pointed look, then glanced at the screen of the green-haired man rotating his hips in the mirror while whistling suggestively.

"Whatever you say, Master Wayne," he said dryly, turning and leaving the room. Bruce felt his cheeks heat up and bit his tongue. Old nosy man needed to mind his own business. Batman's behavior made perfect sense. Batman was keeping a vigilant eye on his Arch Nemesis while he... dyed his hair. Bruce glanced at the screen. Joker had finished slathering his hair and was setting his clock. He leaned over the marble counter, arching his pale back like a panther. Running his finger against the mirror's surface, he sighed wistfully. 

"A 30 minute wait! Hoooow are we going to pass the time?" he sing-sang before bursting into laughter. He started pulling the cabinets open, yanking bottles and colognes out and inspecting everything. He rummaged through the drawers and discovered the shower radio on the wall. Setting it on a smooth pop station, he started opening and smelling colognes, rubbing them on his pale neck and below his navel. Joker lowered his voice to imitate Batman, and muttered something too low for Bruce to hear. 

"I'm not doing that on a first date! What kind of girl do you think I am!" he shrieked at the mirror in feigned horror, before bursting into hysterical laughs. Bruce felt his face get warmer again, pinching the bridge of his nose. Was he doing some kind of role playing? Did he know Bruce was watching? 

"You're gonna have to buy me dinner first," the villain cooed at his reflection. He licked the tip of his finger and gently touched his nipple, gazing at the mirror.

"Would you do me? I'd do me," he murmured. Bruce rubbed his face aggressively, taking deep, shaky breaths. Joker pulled a pair of black briefs out of the drawer and pressed his face into them, inhaling deeply.

"GET YOUR NOSE OUT OF MY UNDERWEAR," Bruce whispered angrily. Eyes closed, Joker ran the piece of clothing lovingly all over his chest and stomach. Bruce groaned. Joker raised a long, slender leg on the toilet seat and held the pair of underwear up for inspection. He glanced inside and stretched the waistline. 

"Oh yeah, that's a big pair, Batsy," he murmured. "A big boy like you needs a lot of room, dont'cha?" Bruce took a deep breath, shifting his weight awkwardly. This was so ridiculous. He wasn't into this. At all. Joker slipped his pants down all of a sudden, and stood in black briefs of his own. Bruce narrowed his eyes, leaning close to the screen. Was Joker wearing... Batman underwear? Yes. Yes, he was.

Joker held the pair over his own, cocking his hips for the mirror, giggling like a maniac. He crammed the pair in his cosmetics bag, along with several other ones.

"He's stealing my fucking underpants," Bruce whispered in disbelief. This was it. This was stealing. He could suit up and go down there now and beat the crap out of that little...

But Alfred would not be happy if he wrecked the bathroom just for a few pairs of briefs. The butler would rather order new ones. Bruce let out a groan, and suddenly the clock beeped in the bathroom. Joker squealed and yanked his briefs down. Bruce turned his face away so fast he nearly got whiplash. He didn't need to see this. Joker wasn't going to do anything now that he was unarmed and... naked. Completely naked. The millionaire closed his eyes, trying to work his dry throat. Maybe it would be best to play it safe and keep an eye out... strictly on the upper body, of course. You never knew, after all.

Exhaling slowly and deliberately, Bruce opened his eyes and tried to nail his gaze on the upper back of his nemesis. The man stood tall, pale and covered in ink, all 6'5 of him, taking up even more space in the shower than Bruce did. Green foamy water was running down the curve of his back, between his thighs, swirling into the sewer. Bruce didn't notice his nails digging into the desk he was pressed against. Joker turned around, eyes closed and hands massaging his scalp, humming some distant tune. Bruce's gaze started to drop almost immediately, but he caught himself just in time. Batman had to keep it professional. Batman was a professional.

He HAD seen that the carpet did not match the drapes, but that was neither here nor there. 

The water shut off, and Joker stepped out of the shower, grabbing a small hand towel and rubbing his hair with it. He dropped the towel on the floor, looking like a neon green, naked zombie rooster freshly out of jail. Grabbing a jar, he started applying product in his hair while whistling the Batman tune. Bruce kept his gaze aggressively on Joker's face, chewing his lower lip. He was not going to look down. He was not. Once the hair was slicked back, the clown pulled out a dark pen and leaned in close to the mirror to do his eyes. Instinctively, Bruce glanced up at the top screen from the other camera of the bathroom, showing Joker's backside. He pressed his gaze down the moment he realized what he was doing, cheeks burning. It was a damn fine view, but not relevant to preventing crime. Joker fluttered his lashes at his reflection.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" he crooned. Then he lowered his voice to Batman levels.

"You'd look even prettier on your knees," he bellowed and started shrieking with laughter, waving at the mirror.

"Stop it! You're way too forward, Batsy, it's not an attractive look," he scolded. "God, it's like you're obsessed with me!" Giggling quietly, he pulled a lipstick out of the bag. He let his mouth fall slack, slowly running a dark red circle around his lips. Bruce cleared his throat, trying to adjust his jeans. That big, dumb, loud, never-shut-up mouth... Joker put his finger in his mouth, pressed his lips around it, and slowly pulled it out.

"I like that color," he said with his Batman voice.

"Aww, thanks, Batsy," he replied with his own voice.

"That color would look real pretty around the base of my cock," mock-Batman replied.

"Gross! Shut up!" Joker screeched with delight, throwing the lipstick at the mirror. Bruce backed off so fast he almost stumbled. His whole body trembling, he turned away from the surveillance screens, his eyes screwed shut. That bastard. That little shit. He was going to beat the SHIT out of him. He did NOT want that, what a pathetic little shit... He groaned, trying to find a comfortable position but he felt like his jeans were going rip apart if he moved. 'I'm just excited to fight him,' he thought. That's what this was, a pre-battle erection. That was sure to be a common phenomena and he would google it tonight. It was probably a thing. It was definitely a thing. Yes. A non-sexual erection all men get for their rivals. That's it. Bruce took deep, long breaths, in and out, in and out, definitely calm and in charge. Definitely not wanting to run up there and fuck that little shit brainless on the bathroom counter. Nope. Not at all. No part of him wanted to give that little runt what his mouth so clearly wanted, just cram his dick deep in there and listen to his euphoric, horny whining and sucking. 

Nope. Batman was not interested in that. No sir.

"Deep breaths, think about something gross," he whispered, noticing with annoyance he sounded slightly out of breath. He was never, ever going to let Joker do this again, bathroom tiles be damned. He would smash the entire fucking manor into the ground before giving that little shit the satisfaction... 

"It's ok, he doesn't know," he reminded himself. Joker had no idea there were surveillance cameras in the bathroom. Everything was under control. Batman was under control. Bruce straightened up, feeling a bit better. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly, opening his eyes. Everything was ok. And Joker was almost done. Had to be. He'd be out of here soon and Bruce could fix whichever entrance his nemesis had used to bust in. All would be back to normal, and he could forget this whole... incident. The millionaire turned around, noticing with relief that the pants were on again. Frowning, Bruce saw Joker had forgotten to put his Batman underwear on; it lay in the corner of the bathroom although he was now fully dressed. Oh well, he'd throw it out. Joker whistled, gathering the rest of his cosmetics into his bag, and leaning in to check his reflection and smooth his hair back. Looking satisfied, he straightened up. Then he turned around, looked up and gazed directly into Bruce's eyes through the camera. A devilish grin flashed.

"See ya around, Batsy!" he called cheerfully with a wink and a wave, and walked out of the bathroom. Bruce staggered back, like punched in the gut. The room was spinning and his limbs were going numb. His vision was blurring, every move Joker had made flashing in his mind. 'He knew. The little shit knew. The little shit did this on purpose!'


End file.
